


Fate StAy-U

by TariSilmarwen



Category: Fate/stay night (Visual Novel), Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Crack, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gilgamesh is a creep, Iri finds Shirou AU, Iri lives AU, Nightmares, Pregnancy, Saber lives AU, Sloppy Makeouts, Torture, rin is a disaster, security clinging, shirou and saber being cute, you got all the AUs here is what i'm saying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariSilmarwen/pseuds/TariSilmarwen
Summary: AU one-shots and short stories of various flavors concerning our favorite Fateverse characters.
Relationships: Artoria Pendragon | Saber & Tohsaka Rin, Emiya Kiritsugu/Irisviel von Einzbern, Emiya Shirou & Fujimura Taiga, Emiya Shirou & Matou Sakura, Emiya Shirou & Tohsaka Rin, Emiya Shirou/Artoria Pendragon | Saber, Heroic Spirit EMIYA | Archer/Tohsaka Rin, Matou Sakura & Tohsaka Rin
Kudos: 48





	1. Fascination

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I would like to apologize terribly for the awful pun that is the title of this little collection. _I'm sorry_.
> 
> Secondly, welcome dear readers! As stated in the summary, this story is a collection of Fate AUs in varying flavors. Most of them fall under a general "Saber is revived in present day and makes her way back to Shirou" sort of premise, though I will note it if otherwise.
> 
> Expected ships will be mostly canon, with a heavy bias towards Shirou/Saber as that's my favorite and you can't take it away from me. This first chapter is one such item of the aforementioned premise, anon having called for "Shirou and Saber spar in the dojo and things get... ah... heated". I'll not keep you much longer and let you get to it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy your stay.

Their training swords smacked against each other with wooden thunks, rapid and quick, punctuated only by their heavy breathing and the occasional pained grunt from Shirou as Saber nailed him.

"You're getting… faster, Shirou…" Saber huffed between blows.

Shirou managed a grin, blowing the sweat-drenched strands of hair out of his face before replying, "It's because I have an excellent teacher of course."

Saber turned her face aside with a demure blush, even as she dodged one of Shirou's overhand swings. "Flattery won't help you win," she teased.

The boy frowned and drove forward, striking horizontally towards her flank. "That's mean, Saber. Here I was trying to compliment you and you throw it back in my face," he complained.

"Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm going to take it easy on you in training," she told him, a wry smirk spreading across her face.

His eyes gleamed mischievously at her. "Guess I'll just have to try harder then."

He pushed more power to his blows, drawing upon some reserve of strength he'd been holding back. Saber was impressed, and found herself giving a bit of ground as they traded blows. Even as she defended, she couldn't help but be mesmerized by him. The sweat dripping down his face, the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the determination in his brown eyes, and the set of his lips in their stoic frown. They parted softly to let air in and out, puckered as he felt one of his strikes get easily deflected, pressed together tightly as he focused. She stared at his mouth in fascination, every little movement captivating her.

Her distraction let Shirou finally knock her bokken aside and grab hold of her wrist before she could raise it again, pulling her closer to him. "Gotcha!" he declared triumphantly.

She merely closed the distance between them, her free hand going to the back of his head as she pressed her mouth to his.

Shirou made a startled noise, his eyes going wide in surprise. He stood there dumbly a moment, his cognitive functions grinding to a halt. Saber pressed to his chest, her lips warm, her body soft. The bokken dropped from his hand as he reached for her, cupping her face and deepening the kiss.

She wrapped her arms around him, sighing into his mouth. Her fingers loosened on her own sword and as Shirou's fingers brushed back through her hair she let it fall with a small hollow plink to the floor.

-FSN-

Rin strode the hallway, humming softly to herself. She steered towards the dojo. It was getting late; Shirou and Saber had been in there all afternoon. If the household was going to get dinner on time, Shirou would have to pull himself away from training now, so he could shower and get cleaned up before preparing their meal.

She rounded the corner and swung around the doorway to the dojo, a playful greeting already on her lips but stopped dead just shy of the threshold, her eyes widening.

Shirou and Saber weren't training. They were moaning, tongue deep in each other's mouths, and Saber appeared to be trying to pull Shirou's shirt off.

…Possibly his pants too.

Rin took a small step back, averting her eyes, and cleared her throat awkwardly.

The couple broke apart instantly, flushing red and leaping several feet away from each other.

"R-Rin!" Saber stammered. "My apologies for your catching us in such an… indecent manner."

Rin was smirking now, her arms crossed in front of her. "It's fine, Saber." She glanced over to Shirou, whose face was beet red and who was pointedly not looking at Saber. "Do you want to come make dinner, Shirou or…" She raised an eyebrow teasingly. "…do you two need a minute?"

He coughed, waving his hand. "I'll be right out, Rin," he said in a small, strained voice.


	2. Naming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Falling under the general "Saber revived and makes her way back to Fuyuki" realm, we have this bit of shameless fluff.
> 
> Because babies.

"What do you think of Akeno?"

Saber tilted her head up towards him, her bangs brushing the side of his cheek.

"That sounds pretty. What does it mean?" she asked.

Shirou leaned back a bit on his hands, gazing out towards the walls of the villa. "Beautiful Meadow."

Saber gave a playful grin. "You would name our daughter after a field?" she teased.

Her husband flushed lightly, shrinking a bit into his shoulders. "I dunno. It just makes me think of… that glimpse of Avalon… those long waving grasses under a blue sky," he admitted.

"Mmm," Saber acknowledged, growing pensive and remembering.

Shifting, Shirou turned a bit towards her, reaching to pat her growing stomach with his hand. "Besides," he said, smiling now, "don't you think our daughter will be beautiful?"

"Undoubtedly." Saber straightened up, using her hands to scoot back on the deck a fraction. "But it would better to be known for other qualities. She should have a strong name. A proper British name like…" Saber put a finger up to her chin to think for a moment. "…Cwenhild," she decided.

Shirou made a face.

"What is wrong with that name?" Saber griped, whining a little. She had thought Shirou would love it as much as she did. "It is a perfectly acceptable name for the daughter of a King."

"Saber, no one in the twenty-first century is named Cwenhild," Shirou pointed out gently. "For her classmates… it would be more than a little odd, don't you think?"

Saber pursed her lips, her brows furrowing. She supposed he had a point. "Still…" she trailed, reluctant to give up the suggestion. "Emiya Cwenhild has a certain ring to it…"

"I thought we had agreed her first name should be Japanese," Shirou protested.

Saber crossed her arms over her chest, resting them lightly on her protruding belly. "I recall no such agreement," she quipped.

"Yesterday, before breakfast. Don't you remember?" he prompted, a twinge of exasperation creeping through him.

She grimaced, recalling the discussion now. "Ah. That." She had only been paying half-attention when he'd talked, the insistent growling in her stomach taking up much more of her thoughts. "You cannot hold me to any promises I make while I am hungry, Shirou," she told him.

Shirou rubbed a hand down his face. "Oy, Saber…" he groaned.

Laughing at his expression, Saber reached across and took his hand from his face, squeezing the fingers gently. "What if we gave her a middle name? Then both of us could have a name we liked," she suggested.

Shirou shrugged. "I suppose. We'd still have to decide which would be her first name." He extended an arm, an invitation to cuddle some more, and Saber settled herself comfortably against his side again.

"Well…" she said, petting her stomach. "We have some time yet before we have to make a decision."

Shirou rested his chin on her head, kissing her hair lightly. She let out a sigh of contentment, her hand coming up to rest on his chest.

They both looked out towards the gate, feeling the warm sun and the gentle summer breeze.

"We could always just name her after Rin," Shirou joked.

Saber snorted with laughter, giggling into her fist uncontrollably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cwenhild" means "Battle Queen". Looking through old english and gaelic baby names is how I found it and I thought it'd totally be a name Saber would like.


	3. Bad End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The AU idea devised for this one was, essentially "Shirou is a normal teenager playing a F/SN-style game, and he's a massive fanboy for Saber".
> 
> It was hilarious and I ran with it full throttle.
> 
> There may or may not be meta jokes

The screen changed to a new picture and Shirou leaned forward to read the text.

"Okay… _Her lips curl in a sneer. She raises her golden sword to point it at me,_ " he read. " _'What will you do to stop me?' she asks. I…_ "

The options appeared with a button push and Shirou scanned them quickly.

"Lay down my sword of course," he declared confidently, clicking that option. "I would never hurt Saber."

The screen went black and the game whirred a moment as it loaded. Shirou leaned back in his seat, relaxing.

A red slash sliced the picture, accompanied by a loud scare chord.

Shirou yelped, almost dropping his console, and peered at the text now appearing on the screen. As he read, his eyes widened more and more.

"Wait, no!" he cried. "What?! What is going—?"

Ominous eerie music piped in, accompanying the nightmarish still of a rather dramatic bloodbath, as Saber's voice continued in a cruel monotone, berating him for being weak. There was one final shot looking up at her from below.

Then the screen went dark and the GAME OVER text took her place.

" _Whaaaaat?_ " Shirou blurted in disbelief. "BAD END?! How could that be a Bad End?! You didn't even let me talk to her!"

The tutorial piped in then, with the game's cheerful mascots sighing in disappointment at his choices and explaining what he'd done wrong.

_"Oh my! Silly hero. Saber can not be reasoned with in this state."_

Shirou scowled. He hugged the tiny plush Saber doll at his side a little closer. "Don't listen to them, Saber," he told her. He stroked her braided yarn hair comfortingly. "I know your heart is still good."

The tutorial sent him back to the main menu, to pick up from his last save point, but Shirou was rather burned out and still stinging from hitting the (completely nonsensical, he thought) Bad End, so he just sighed and put down the console.

"Man," he groaned. "Why is this route so _hard?_ "

-FSN-

"Hey, Emiya!"

Emiya glanced over his shoulder, to see his classmate Issei trotting up to meet him. "Oh. Hey Issei," he replied, glumly.

"Something got you down?" Issei asked, falling into step next to the boy.

"It's nothing," he dismissed.

"Say, are you finished with that game I let you borrow yet?" Issei asked. He flicked a piece of lint off his uniform as he continued, "Shinji said he wanted to play it next." He added in a grumble, "Although I can't imagine _why_."

"Ah…" Shirou felt a twinge of embarrassment. "Not… not yet."

"Seriously?" Issei peered at him from behind his glasses. "You've had it a month. I would've thought for sure you'd finished it by now."

Shirou rubbed a hand on the back of his head. "Well… I'm kind of stuck on the part where the magician brainwashes Saber into attacking you. I can't get past that point."

"Really? That's an easy one to get past. You have to say yes to Rin's asking you on a date that morning. Then she comes to your rescue during the battle and manages to break the spell on Saber."

"But I don't wanna do _that!_ " Shirou whined.

Issei stopped walking a moment, tilting his head at Shirou and staring at him like his skin had turned green. "W…hyyy not?" he asked, drawing out the syllables in confusion.

Shirou looked away uncomfortably. "Well… Saber'd be mad if I did that. It'd be like I was cheating on her!"

Issei bawked at him. "But the B Route is Rin's arc," he said, thoroughly bewildered. "You have to spend at least a _little_ time building up your relationship stats with her in order to get through the story."

"But I don't want to hurt Saber's feelings!" Shirou protested.

"Oy, Shirou…" Issei moaned, smacking a hand to his face. "It's just a game. She's not real. You can't really hurt her feelings."

"Yes you can! In the scene before the first battle it says she looks _disappointed_ when I have to leave her to talk to Rin! And she's upset when that older classmate starts flirting with me!" Shirou was gesturing passionately, his voice getting animated and his expression unusually distressed. "I mean, I like Rin—a lot!—She's nice and she's funny and all but… Saber's just… I mean she's so…" He trailed off with a dreamy look in his eyes.

Issei was rubbing his temples now, with both hands. "I'd hate to see your reaction to the C and D Routes…" he mumbled.

"Who do I have to romance in the D Route?" Shirou asked, befuddled. "The classmate? My teacher?"

Issei muttered under his breath before finally confessing, "Rider."

"But she tried to _kill_ me!"

"And Saber didn't?"

Shirou's face twisted in disgust. "She was _brainwashed!_ That's _different!_ "

Issei shook his head, starting to walk again as the first notes of the warning bell sounded. "I think you're a little too into this game, Emiya."

-FSN-

Shirou obsessively checked for replies, twitching and tapping his foot nervously. It had been twenty-four hours ago that he'd posted his plea for help with his… dilemma. Surely, someone had an answer by now.

There were three new posts on the thread. One of them was a rather detailed strategy guide for raising and lowering the relationship stats, though it warned him of the inevitable bad ends that would result from keeping certain ones too low during the individual routes. It didn't look like he could stay with Saber without eventually gathering the rest of the harem in one way or another. Shirou could feel the awkwardness and confusion rising up in him even as he sat there. He barely knew how to handle _one_ fictional girlfriend, how was he supposed to keep an entire bevy of them happy?

 _And why should I even have_ to? he groused to himself.

The two other posts were sympathetic apologies and admissions of zero knowledge of how to help him. Shirou sighed and closed out of the browser, gazing wistfully at his desktop picture of Saber, in her full armor dress, her hair glowing under the light of a large moon behind her.

A chat window suddenly popped up in the corner of his screen. Shirou clicked on it, curiously. It was Issei.

**_No luck?_ **

Shirou put his hands to the keyboard to type out, **_No._**

**_And you're sure you can't just play the game like a normal person?_ **

Shirou sent him an angry frowny face in response.

An emoticon with a sighing animation came in reply. **_Fine._** Issei typed. A download link appeared in the chat window. **_Here's a mod to artificially inflate the other girls' relationship stats_. _I found it deep in one of the cheats threads. You're welcome._**

Shirou stared at the link a long moment and then typed, **_You are my favorite person right now, Issei._**

 ** _I'm sure._** Issei replied. **_Now hurry up and finish the game. Shinji's getting whiny about the wait._**


	4. Powder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this one was, "Shirou, Saber, and their first snow day." so this falls under the general "Saber returns" happy AU where nothing bad happens to Shirou or the girls ever and they can live their lives in peace dammit.

"Shirou!" Saber's voice hissed excitedly above him. "Shirou! Wake up!"

"Nnnh?" Shirou blinked, the image of her face swimming into view. "Saber?" His brain slogged into awareness, first noticing the chill in the room that nipped at his exposed face. He shivered and tugged the blankets a fraction tighter around him. _Jeez, why's it so cold?_ came his first confused thought.

" _Shirou!_ " Saber called insistently, grabbing his arm and now outright pulling at him.

"Woah! Hey!" Bewildered and still shaking off the last vestiges of sleep Shirou could only be dragged along as she tugged him out from under the covers and to his feet, both hands clasped tight around his. "All right, all right, I'm up. What's this about, Saber?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Come quickly!" Saber just told him, pulling him down the hallway as quickly as she could, her face alight with excitement.

"What is—"

Saber stopped abruptly once they came to the front hallway, and Shirou almost stumbled into her. He looked up. The door had been flung open and outside, carpeting the courtyard, was a layer of soft white powder, flakes of which were also falling softly from the sky.

"Wha—? Snow?" Shirou gawped, his eyes widening. "Is it… _snowing?_ " The weather had been unusually cold the days prior but… surely this wasn't actually real?

The wind from the open door blew frigid on his face. Laughter drifted on it to his ears. It sounded like Rin and Sakura were already outside, and from the notable absence of her shoes in the hall he guessed that Illya was as well.

Saber had let go of his hand to clasp both of hers near her chest as she looked with delight upon the scene. Then she stooped to put on her shoes, lacing them in a rush.

"Hey, slow down," Shirou said, coming out of his stunned stupor. He reached for her but she was already up and heading towards the door. Shirou hastily shoved his socked feet into his own shoes as he tried to catch hold of her. "Wait, Saber! Put on a coat first!"

His fingers managed to pinch a corner of her sleeve, tugging her briefly to a halt as he got down a tan suede jacket from the rack by the door. Saber slid her arms into the sleeves at once as he held it out to her and in a flash had slipped away again and was outside, tromping towards the gate.

Shirou fumbled about the front hallway for several minutes, gathering his coat and a scarf and a wool hat, before joining her. (Though he, at least, remembered to close the door behind him.)

He blinked in the soft white light. His feet sank soundlessly into the snow piling underfoot, while flurries dropped quietly onto his head. Shirou marveled, twisting his head all around to see the courtyard in its full winter glory.

Rin and Sakura were building a snowman—or, rather, the lumpy uneven semblance of one. It was off-kilter and tilting but the sisters looked terribly proud of it nonetheless. They giggled to each other as they batted snow off its oblong sides, trying to smooth it out. Illya, meanwhile, was on her back, her legs and arms spread out, white hair pillowing on the white snow beneath her. She moved her limbs back and forth and then sat up, breathless, her cheeks and nose rosy. She looked up at Shirou and laughed at his expression.

"Don't tell me you've never seen snow before, Onii-chan!"

Shirou shook his head in wonder. "Not in person. It doesn't really snow in Fuyuki." He crossed his arms and leaned back with a smile. "Well, I guess it's no surprise that you've seen it."

"Of course." Illya got carefully to her feet, so as not to ruin her snow angel, and tossed the snow out of her hair with a casaul flip. "It snowed all the time at Einzbern Castle."

Shirou felt a shadow by his shoulder and shifted to find Saber there. He was glad to see that she'd put on the mittens from her coat pocket. She was holding a handful of snow in them, which she let fall with a smile as she looked up.

"In Britain, during winter… it would often snow," she said. "Sometimes it was higher than my knees." Her gaze drifted around the courtyard. "I've always liked the snow…" she murmured.

He might've made some smart quip in reply, about why she kept hogging the blankets if she liked the cold so much, but looking at her now—her cheeks flushed and pink, her eyes alight with happiness, white flakes settling into her golden hair, clinging to her bangs like a crown of tiny paper flowers—he found himself struck oddly… dumb.

Up until he felt something wet and cold smack the back of his head.

"Hey!" he protested, whirling around and frantically brushing the compacted snow off his neck. Sakura was giggling behind her hand and Rin was brushing snow off her palms. "What was that for, Tohsaka?" Shirou complained, glaring at her.

She crossed her arms with a smug look. "It's snowing, you dummy. Shouldn't we have a snowball fight?"

"Attacking while my back was turned wasn't exactly fair." Shirou smirked mischievously, reaching back to grab Saber's hand. "But if it's a fight you want, we'll give it to you. Saber's on my team of course."

Rin put her fists on her hips. "Well then Illya's on mine."

"Illya temporarily disqualifies herself in order to teach you two how to make a _proper_ snowman," Illya sniffed, coming over and turning up her nose at the misshapen snowman, whose head Sakura was desperately trying to keep balanced on its body.

Saber looked amused. "We are doing battle in the snow?" she inquired.

"As soon as you're all experts on how to pack it," Illya told them, taking an authoritative teaching stance in front of them.

-FSN-

Once Illya had deemed their snowballs "sufficient" enough, the snowball fight began in earnest. Shirou and Saber ducked behind trees and corners of the house, laughing as they tossed the icy pellets out towards Rin's team.

Shirou barely even noticed the cold anymore. He was so caught up, strategizing different attack patterns and squashing snowballs into the perfect compact spheres, sneaking affectionate kisses with Saber in-between dodging Illya, Rin, and Sakura's hail of snowbombs.

They were pinned behind the corner of the Dojo now, craning their necks out for a glimpse of their adversaries.

"Where did they go?" wondered Shirou. He thought they'd been right behind them on their heels just a moment—

"Shirou, watch out!" Saber called, spotting the trio sneaking up from their blind spot. She darted in front of him to shield him with her body.

Rin's hard curveball was a little too enthusiastic and pinned Saber right in the gut. She fell back into Shirou, who slipped on the wet snow and toppled over with her.

They landed in a heap of limbs and fur and cold flakes, and their sides shook with chuckles. Saber blushed from their awkward position, and Shirou couldn't resist a quick peck on her cheek and a whispered exhortation in her ear.

As they attempted to disengage, Rin sauntered over, flanked by her sister and Illya, all wearing grins.

"Looks like you're defeated, Emiya," Rin crowed.

Shirou helped Saber up first before he attempted to rise, conceding defeat with a small nod. "Well, I don't really mind," he said. "That was fun." He rubbed the small of his back. "Ow."

"Sempai, are you all right?" Sakura asked, tiltling her head in concern.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "Just a little sore."

Saber pushed her snow-covered bangs out of her face. "Shall we go inside now?" she asked. "The battle seems to have worked up my appetite."

"Make me something too, Shirou!" Illya piped in.

"All right," he said. "Lunch will be on soon." Rin and Sakura were already running back to their snowman, to fix his sagging head. Shirou took Saber's hand. "Are you cold?" he asked her.

"Slightly," she replied. "I think a bit of snow may have become trapped under my collar."

"Well," he said, "don't worry. I'll make you something warm right away."

He turned them back towards the house, her hand tucked in his, utterly content as the snow fell silently around them.


	5. Heaven and Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving behind the fluff for a moment to indulge some PAIN.
> 
> Have an "Iri finds Shirou" AU. There may be more of this later.

Awareness was the last thing she was expecting.

She was supposed to die, her soul to be absorbed by the Greater Grail, her body to dissolve and reform into its physical container. She'd known that for a long time. She'd been ready to sacrifice herself, give up her life to bring about Kiritsugu's dream. _Their_ dream, she told herself. All his—their—hopes for a better world.

Her body had already died, killed by Kotomine, her mind lingering a while longer before sinking softly into the oblivion she had prepared herself for.

And yet...

And _yet_...

It its haste to expel the golden archer, she had been expelled as well. Thrown up. Cast out of the Grail's gullet. So here she was. Awake. Aware.

_Alive?_

She wasn't sure yet. Consciousness came back to her slowly.

She was splayed on the hard ashen ground. The air was hot. Too hot. It burned her throat, stung her eyes, itched on her bare skin. Every breath she took in was ragged, uncomfortable. Her body shook with the motion, lungs struggling.

She scrabbled for purchase with her fingers, nails digging into rough dirt. Dust was clogging her nose; she had to lift her head.

Straining, she brought her knees underneath her, and pushed herself up with her arms. Her white hair dropped limply around her. She knelt there, breathing a moment. Then she lifted her head and looked up.

And wished at once to return to oblivion.

For this? This burning desolation? It could only be Hell.

Iri looked around, horror in her eyes. Everywhere she looked, it was burning, and burning. Flames covered the ground, sparking high into the air, filling it with smoke and ash and soot. The cries of the dying surrounded her. All was reduced to rubble and debris.

High above them in the sky, the black hole that was the Grail dripped out its last curses, scorching the Earth below.

Iri put her hands out, shakily getting to her feet. Her new knees wobbled, unsteady, unused to having to support her. Her wide eyes darted around, and the flames reflected in them.

This... this wasn't her husband's wish. It couldn't have been. It had to be someone else's.

But how? Had he lost? Had someone else beaten him to the Grail? It didn't seem possible.

 _No... I... remember..._ He hadn't lost. The Grail had embraced him. Somewhere in the fuzz and fog of her mind she knew this was true. So then why...?

A sudden spike of panic gripped her.

_Where was he?_

Iri felt dread and worry pool in her chest like a cold block of ice. If Kiritsugu had rebuffed the Grail, what had it done to him? Where had he gone? Was he somewhere in this... this desolation?

Like a frenzied drunk, Iri ran through the fire, stumbling, tripping over debris. "Kiritsugu!" she cried as she ran. "Kiritsugu!"

The heat scorched her naked skin. The smoke choked her. To get a modicum of shielding from the popping sparks and awful heat, she found herself grabbing the remains of a cloth awning, wrapping it around her.

She clutched the edges tight to her chest, searching.

_There!_

She spotted him, lying prone on his back across a pile of bubbling mud. The brief flash of relief she felt as she flung herself to her knees next to him faded almost immediately as she took in his face—heavily burned and coated on one side with black boils.

But his eyes were the same as they opened and looked at her. A faint smile cracked his face.

"Iri..." he whispered, raising a hand to touch her face.

"Kiritsugu," she said, voice trembling. She cupped his chin with both hands.

"Am I dead then?" he asked her. She hated how weak it sounded, as if every breath was taking an effort.

She shook her head. "No, I... I'm alive. I don't know how but—"

"Then—" he interrupted, a spark coming into his eyes, "—then there's still a chance."

"Kiritsugu... " she breathed. Hot tears threatened to spill from her eyes and she blinked them back. " _Why?_ " she strained, emotion choking her voice. "Why did you reject the Grail? Your dream..." she trailed off, unable to continue.

The look he gave her... He smiled again, but it was full of pain. Of regret.

"It wasn't worth it," he said. "How the Grail would have granted my wish... it was too high a cost. I couldn't justify it." His head shook, wearily. "Not even... to myself."

"But—" Iri sputtered. "But—"

"Iri," he said, lifting his head suddenly, grabbing one of her hands tight. "Iri, the Grail is evil. Curses dwell inside it. Look around you." He gestured about them. "This is the Grail's curse." He lay back down, heaving from the effort. "They don't deserve this, Iri. You have..." The words strained out of him as a pained shudder flushed through his body. "You have to save them."

To her shock and astonishment, he made a gesture to slice himself open, and reached into the blinding golden light that spilled forth from the split.

"No!" Iri cried, the familiar radiant glow blinding her, dazzling her eyes. "Kiritsugu, you'll die!"

He drew the golden sheath from his his body slowly, with reverence, his face already looking grayer. "I'm already dead," he said, mouth upturned grimly. "Not even Avalon... can stop that now. Even with it inside me, I could feel myself fading." His hand grasped hold of the scabbard as the split in his chest sealed. "It's too late for me... but... maybe not... for someone else..."

Hands shaking, he extended the sheath towards her.

"No," Iri sobbed, shaking her head, grabbing handfuls of his clothes, ignoring the offered scabbard. "Please... don't leave me!" she begged.

"You have to save them, Iri," he repeated. His chest shuddered, breathing unsteady. "Save them. Save _someone_. Promise me."

Iri's heart clenched and she squeezed her eyes closed, praying for strength. How could he ask her to carry on, when her reason for living was dying? But he'd given her a request, imparted to her his last desire, and she who would have gladly died for him— _had_ already died for him—must now attempt to fulfill it, or she didn't love him at all.

"I... I will," she promised in a broken squeak.

Her hands found Avalon, gripped the beautiful scabbard tightly.

Strength faded out of Kiritsugu's body as he passed it over, his fingers loosening and his hand dropping to his chest. "Tell... Illya... I'm sorry," he rasped. "Her daddy wasn't... strong enough..."

"Don't speak," Iri said, pulling Avalon to her chest. "Just rest." She got her feet underneath her and awkwardly got up, clinging to Avalon and the cloth awning. She stumbled off, diving into the hell that surrounded them once again.

She forced herself to keep going, forced herself not to look back, not to run back to Kiritsugu's side.

She didn't see the breath still in his chest, didn't hear his last whispered prayer as he watched her receding back.

"Please..." he begged whatever unseen forces were listening, "...let her find someone."

-FSN-

Her pale white feet were scratched and bruised. Now covered in dirt. The once clean, new nails broken and chipped. Aching.

She shuffled listlessly through the ruin, unseeing. Wandering aimlessly. The stench of soot and death and burning flesh stung her nose. Her hair clung to her back with sweat. The awning she was using to cover herself had snagged more than a few times and was now rife around the edges with rips and holes. The heat from the inferno smothered her, cloying, suffocating. It was hard to breathe and her head felt light.

But she didn't stop.

Ever on her weary feet carried her, purposeless, but still seeking a purpose. Despair threatened to sink her, and yet she continued to wander through the flames, searching, seeking.

Avalon was starting to grow limp in her arms. It was all she could do to keep hold of it, keep herself from flinging herself to the ground and curling up with hopeless sobs as she waited for the flames to take her.

 _Save them_ , he'd told her. But there wasn't anyone to save. There was no one left. Everywhere she looked, there was death, and more death.

The tears she'd been holding back earlier returned, blurring her vision into a dull red smear.

 _I should never have left him_ , she thought despondently. She should have stayed with him to the end, made her body his shroud, the blaze their funeral pyre. What purpose was there in living, in scrabbling at the dirt for signs of a survivor, when he was gone?

Hot wet trails streaked down her cheeks. She stopped to inhale and compose herself, but didn't bother to wipe them away.

Kiritsugu had had hope—in her, in her strength, in the idea that some good could be seized from the midst of all this evil. So she must too.

Iri lifted a corner of the awning and smeared it across her face, the blue of night and the bright orange flames coming into focus once again.

She turned, stumbling off in a direction she hadn't tried yet. The sky above turned gray, heavy with the impending threat of rain. The flames were beginning to subside, licking rather than devouring. Iri climbed awkwardly over a splintered wooden beam in her path. She batted away a sprinkling of raindrops, scanning the way ahead for a clear path.

She stopped abruptly. Amidst the piles of ash and rubble and the little growing wet puddles, she thought she'd caught sight of—

_There!_

A swell rose up through her chest. She jerked into a run, almost tripping in her haste and elation. At the bottom of the hill, from behind a scorched pile of debris, there was a tiny hand sticking up. Reaching, grasping towards the sky. The first true sign that something in this wretched desolation yet lived.

Avalon dropped beside her as she fell to her palms and knees, feverishly grasping the tiny hand with both of her own.

"I found you! Oh thank God, I found you!" she exclaimed, breathless.

The boy the hand belonged to looked up at her with empty, glass-like eyes. "Mom?" The word blurted out so quietly she almost missed it. The boy squinted, confusion entering his eyes.

Iri was crying so hard she was laughing, repeating in a gentle whisper, "It's okay... It's okay... I found you..."

His empty eyes stared at her, uncomprehending. His little face was scratched and bruised, ash and dirt clogging his messy red hair. He lay very still, dying but not yet dead. There was hope for him. He could be saved!

"Are you here... to take me to Heaven?" he asked, voice weak.

Iri shook her head, holding his cold little hand to her cheek. "No, little one," she whispered tenderly. "You're going to live." Her arms came around him, lifting him into a tight embrace. "You're going to _live_ ," she repeated with conviction.

She held him to her chest, wreathed in golden light and weeping in relief, as the rain came down in cool waves, extinguishing the fire at last.


	6. Resentment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very small AU tweak of the Fate route scene where Illya has Shirou captured and held prisoner in her castle. Very small. Mostly only done for the whump and the sister reveal.
> 
> Torture depicted throughout, squeamish be warned.

A splash of cold water to his face brought Shirou back to consciousness with a gasp. He coughed violently, hacking out stray droplets of water from his aching lungs.

Illya stood above him impassively with the upturned bucket, her red eyes glaring down with a cold expression at him.

"I did not say you could pass out," she growled. She tossed the bucket away with a clatter, then knelt down by his head, placing a hand on his cheek. "I want you awake for every moment of this, Onii-chan."

"I-Illya…" he croaked, his head still swimming, his arms aching from their position behind him, pinned between the chair he was bound to and the cold marble floor. He saw Illya give a smirk, and his pulse spiked. "Wait—"

She cut him off with another flash of that blinding pain. Shirou felt his body seize up, heard himself crying out as if from a distance as the million tiny needle-like stings pushing outwards from inside him overtook his senses again. His ears rang. His lungs burned.

As suddenly as she'd inflicted it, Illya let him have a reprieve. Shirou panted, his chest heaving, sweat and lingering dampness making the collar of his shirt stick to his skin. When Illya had described this torture to him—basically a complicated spell that, near as he'd gathered, overstimulated a magus's magic circuits to the point of pain—it had sounded almost harmless to him. He could never have imagined hurting this much.

The reintroduction to the white-hot agony had jogged his memory and now he could recall, all too well, the fire of it coursing through him, clawing at his insides, stealing his breath and making him thrash wildly until he felt himself tilt back with a dizzy lurch.

That was how he had ended up on the floor, he supposed.

Illya was behind his head now, hoisting the chair back up with a girlish grunt of effort. She huffed, her arms straining, as she pushed the chair back into its upright position.

Shirou groaned as the hard jostle caused the ropes to dig uncomfortably into his skin. Spots blossomed in front of his vision and for a long minute he couldn't focus.

"Honestly," Illya was snorting. "You really are a half-baked magus. I'm not even using the spell at its full potential."

She raised her hand at him.

"Wait Illya, s-stop…" he rasped out. "Why—" A fit of coughing rocked his frame with violent shudders. When he got his breath back he finished, "—why are you doing this?" He knew the girl could be cruel, despite her innocent facade, but this seemed a step too far even for her. All she had to do was let Berserker take a swing at him and he'd be done for, out of the fight for the Grail permanently. Why torture him? Why draw things out like this? He couldn't comprehend.

Her red eyes had a malicious gleam. "Because I hate you," she said pleasantly, smiling.

A glowing sigil appeared in her palm and Shirou was beset by another rushing onslaught of pain. His body rocked harshly in his seat, spasming, and he made the mistake of biting his tongue, giving a muffled yelp as his jaws clamped down and his own teeth pierced him.

When Illya stopped, his head hung forward limply, a dribble of blood dropping from his lips. Shirou breathed hard, swallowed and felt the hot copper tang sting his throat. His wrists ached, rubbed raw from the coarse rope.

"I know… that in this War… we're enemies…" he choked out. He shook his head weakly. "But still…" he said, "…Illya… I don't think… you're the type of person… that enjoys doing this."

He looked up at her, searching. She glowered at him, her brows narrowed, expression infuriated.

"I _am_ enjoying this!" she insisted.

Shirou shook his head again. "No," he said, a soft smile gracing his lips. "If you _really_ wanted to hurt me, you wouldn't have held back the first few times."

Her palm glowed. He yelped, a high-pitched screech, as another flash of pain—worse than the others—pierced through him.

"I was just letting you warm up," Illya spat, "for when the _real_ pain comes."

Grimacing, Shirou shifted on his seat, trying to clear his head. Okay, maybe his guess had been wrong. His thoughts rolled about listlessly inside his pounding head as he tried to make sense of the girl's motives. This torment still seemed excessive for someone who was just an enemy in the Grail War. Something about all of this felt intensely… _personal._

"Illya… what's your game with this?" he asked wearily. "Why don't you just kill me and be done with it, if you want me out of your way so badly?"

She didn't reply for a long moment. He looked up, and saw an oddly guarded expression on her face.

"…Shirou really doesn't know, does he?" she said softly. She gave a little giggle, lowering her hand to clasp it behind her back with the other one. She leaned over, beaming. "This isn't about the Grail, Shirou," she chirped. "It's about you."

Shirou blinked in confusion. "Me?"

"Mmm-hmm," Illya confirmed with a cheerful nod. Much less congenially she added, her eyes glowing dangerously, "And how much I despise your existence."

Foreboding hammered at his heart. "I don't understand." He raked his brain through the events of the past few days, trying to figure out what he could have done that would have given Illya such a specific grudge against him.

But then, he remembered… Illya had seemed to know of him _before_ the Grail War…

Illya poked a finger into his chest, breaking his train of thought. "Because it's your fault, Shirou," she explained. "You're the reason he never came home."

"What are you saying?" Illya was uncomfortably up in his face now and Shirou leaned back as far as he was allowed. "Illya, I don't—"

"He found you and he forgot all about his family," Illya interrupted, starting to circle him. Her voice dripped with an eerie anger now. The pleasant smile was still in place but it was strained, faltering. "He forgot all about _me._ Everyone always leaves me in the end, you know," she said, in a melancholy kind of sing-song.

"What are you talking—" Something clicked inside his brain all of a sudden. "Wait…" Shirou's eyes widened. Illya had mentioned a "him". "He" had been her family, "he" had left and… found Shirou. _No way,_ he thought. "Illya, was…" he asked, "…was Kiritsugu your father?"

She stopped circling and faced him. "Hmm. I guess you're not as dense as I thought," she mused. Her spine straightened proudly. "Yes, I was Emiya Kiritsugu's daughter… before he betrayed the Einzberns and never returned from the Grail War."

"So that makes us—?"

Illya shrugged. "Half-siblings I guess. It doesn't matter." A malicious grin had spread across her face. "Because you're not going to leave me, Onii-chan. Not like he did. I'm going to keep you forever. That's why it'd be a waste to kill you now." She raised her hand and let it glow ominously. "After all, I'm not done playing with you."

Shirou opened his mouth to speak but a burst of pain like a stab to his innards punched his gut and doubled him over. His eyes clamped shut, his jaw clenching, every muscle tensing as he waited it out. A desperate gasp filled his lungs once it was over. He could feel himself shaking, every intake of breath making him shudder. He resisted the urge to whimper. He wouldn't give Illya the satisfaction of knowing how much her spell was hurting him.

He focused instead on the indignant righteous anger bubbling in his stomach.

"Kiritsugu would never have abandoned you," he growled. "He wasn't like that! How can you believe he'd do such a thing?!"

All glee vanished from Illya's face and she was truly angry now. "I don't _believe_ it, it's _true!_ " she snapped.

Shirou rolled his eyes. "Like hell it is." The man's mysterious trips abroad made a sudden amount of sense to Shirou now. Kiritsugu must have been trying to get back to see Illya but, for some reason or another, he had been prevented. "If you knew him at all you'd know that he'd never turn his back on someone he cared about," Shirou said.

Illya forewent punishing him for that statement with another round of pain, opting instead to just dart forward and slug him hard across the face. Shirou's head snapped to the side with the force, and he could feel blood pooling in his mouth again.

"Like _you_ knew him so well!" Illya was shouting. "How much could _you_ know about him, if he never even told you about me? You're just some orphan he pulled from a burning pile of rubble and took pity on!"

The next time her hand glowed was the worst yet; Shirou almost lost consciousness again, overwhelmed by the burning pain. When he came to himself and could think again, he decided it was time to put an end to this.

He muttered the words under his breath.

"Trace o—nnggh!"

He'd been unprepared for the sudden aftershock of pain. It felt a bit like trying to use a strained or pulled muscle; it didn't do anything and just hurt. Shirou blinked uncomprehendingly down at his lap.

"That won't work, Onii-chan," Illya trilled, dancing slightly on her toes. "Your magic circuits have been overloaded. They can't handle any other spells right now." Her smile of mean satisfaction was back, and her eyes glowed creepily bright in the light from the window. "You're all mine," she whispered.

Fear crept through his veins. Shirou squirmed, feeling truly helpless for the first time. He saw the sigil in Illya's palm beginning to light and flinched in preparation.

Pain assaulted his senses. The scream tore from him almost involuntarily, high and piercing, a shrill wordless cry of agony. Shirou had no control of his body, he couldn't think, he couldn't _breathe,_ everything in him was ripping and tearing apart. His heart jolted, the pain stabbing deep into his chest. It felt like every molecule in his body was breaking, every bone fracturing and splintering. He wanted to beg Illya to stop but he couldn't even form words. All he could do was shriek, and wail, and endure.

And then suddenly it was gone. Shirou didn't even realize he had stopped hurting for several long seconds. His wailing died down.

 _Illya… must be letting me have a rest again_ , came the dull thought.

But no, Illya wasn't looking at him. She was wide-eyed on the floor, looking shocked. And there was dust and rubble blowing through the room, chunks of masonry and stonework sailing past him, as if something had blown out the wall to their left. Shirou tried to focus through blurry, swimming eyes. He blinked past his bangs towards the hole, peering through the gray dust.

Blue… Something blue, softly waving in the wind. Blue fabric.

Silver armor.

Golden hair.

Shirou's heart gave a leap even before the comprehension dawned on him, and his chapped lips were already parting to call her name.

"Sa… ber…" he whispered happily.

His head was still spinning dizzily but there could be no mistaking her, standing in the gap with her sword raised and her brows narrowed. It was Saber.

And she looked _pissed._

"Run," she growled at Illya. "Before I change my mind about striking you down."

The girl gasped, scrambling to her feet, turning tail and running out the door. "Berserker!" he heard her cry before she disappeared.

Saber glared after her impassively, then her expression turned to worry as she moved towards him. "Shirou!" she cried. Her sword lowered as she cupped his face with one hand, looking over him in concern. "Are you all right?"

In truth, Shirou's head was still pounding, and his body was still throbbing and tingling all over with uncomfortable sharp pangs. But he ignored the pain to smile and tell her, "Better, now that you're here, Saber."

"Hold still," she instructed.

With a few quick swipes of Excalibur, she sliced through the binds holding Shirou to the chair. As he slumped forward, she caught hold of him.

"Can you walk? Illya will soon return, with Berserker in tow I imagine."

Shirou shook his head dully. He had already tried to push off Saber and balance upright on his own feet, but his legs felt like soggy jelly and all his limbs seemed weighted down. "I don't think I can. She took a lot out of me. Sorry, Saber."

Her arms clutched him tighter. She put Excalibur away, so she could better hold him. "No matter," she said, a soft smile ghosting across her lips. "I've got you. Don't worry." She gathered him up into her arms, as though he was light as a feather. "I'll get you out of here."

He reached up, clasping his hands behind her neck, a fuzzy darkness beginning to fog up his mind. "Thanks… Saber," he murmured, a dazed, dreamy look in his eyes.

Saber nodded, and then she was all business, turning swiftly on her foot and leaping from the second story bedroom Illya had stowed Shirou in down to the ground. She hit the ground running, bounding in great strides with Shirou clinging tightly to her as they made their escape.


	7. Needling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tumblr anon for this one basically wanted a scene where Archer was interrogated by Gilgamesh. I saw the opportunity for Archer snark and I ran with it.
> 
> Very crack. Much uncanon.

"What kind of Servant lets himself get captured in broad daylight?" laughed Gilgamesh.

Archer shifted uncomfortably on his knees. His hands twisted idly in his binds.

"Just my luck I suppose," he muttered.

He had been running an errand for Rin. The household had run out of certain supplies—to his everlasting embarrassment, certain _feminine_ supplies—and as his Master was busy teaching his inept younger self the secrets of proper magecraft, and as Saber was utterly clueless about modern methods of personal female hygiene, _he_ had been elected to go fetch them. He had protested only briefly and mildly, before an irate Rin threatened him with her command seals, and then had accepted his task with no small reluctance.

He had donned plain civilian clothing for the occasion, hoping to blend in unobtrusively with the populace.

Apparently that had not been enough to fool Lancer, whom Archer had run into lurking just outside the boundary field of the house on his way back.

The ensuing fight had cost him the groceries (Rin was not going to be happy about that) and his shirt (a pity really, it had been the only one he could find that had fit him), as Lancer's magic spear rent both of them over and over again until they were shredded, Archer just managing to defend himself against the onslaught. But during the battle the legendary Irish hero had said some rather interesting things, insinuating the presence of another Archer, a Master at the church, an insidious plot to summon the Grail before the true end of the war.

Keenly interested in this rather startling bit of news, Archer had considered his options and then came to an executive decision. Rin wouldn't be happy, but in the long run it would probably save her life—and the lives of Emiya and the rest.

So he'd surrendered, and allowed himself to be taken to the church.

…Though he was starting to regret that decision now.

The other Archer was a swaggering blonde peacock who'd wasted no time in announcing his identity as Gilgamesh, of the Mesopotamian epic. He had not stopped laughing since Archer had arrived.

"Ha!" he was crowing. "Your luck must be worse than even Lancer's!"

Standing off to the side, the Servant in question made a face at that. "Oy…" he said, indignant.

Gilgamesh sauntered over, one hand on his hip, red eyes scoffing down at Archer. "Now that I've captured you—"

"Hey, you didn't do anything. I was the one who caught him!" Lancer protested.

"Technically I surrendered," interjected Archer.

Gilgamesh waved that off. "Such minuscule details don't matter." His raised hand called forth a handful of silver chains, seemingly from nowhere, that wrapped themselves around Archer's torso and hauled him up off his feet. Gilgamesh sneered and said, "At any rate, perhaps, while we're waiting for my Master to return, we can learn the secret of your identity, _Archer._ "

Archer's face twinged in discomfort as the chains pinched his skin, but was otherwise unruffled. "Just to warn you," he said, tone very calm and conversational, "you won't get anything out of me. I'm not very good entertainment."

Gilgamesh smirked. "We'll see about that."

-FSN-

Nearly half an hour later, however, Archer's words proved… frustratingly prophetic.

Gilgamesh had circled and questioned him a dozen times over now, and if Archer didn't reply with stubborn stony silence the answer he gave was short, brief, and entirely unhelpful.

For the question, "What is your heroic identity?":

"I don't remember."

Tightening the chains and accusing him of lying had yielded nothing further. Gilgamesh had mused aloud about the potential for Archer to have acquired brain damage during his summoning.

"Perhaps. My Master's summoning skills are amateurish at best. Don't let her hear you say that, though," Archer had joked.

That had earned him a knife to his shoulder from out of the Gate of Babylon (from what Archer surmised, a repository of countless weapons Gilgamesh could summon at his whim).

For the question: "What is your Noble Phantasm?"

"Ask Lancer."

Gilgamesh had turned to Lancer and barked, "Lancer! What did this mongrel have at his disposal?"

Lancer had replied surlishly, "I don't know. He had two curved blades, one black, one white. And he had a barrier that could repel _Gae Bolg._ "

Gilgamesh had turned a suspicious eye on Archer. "I thought you were supposed to be Archer class. What kind of Archer primarily uses swords?"

"I could ask you the same," Archer replied, nodding towards the dozens of hilts floating in midair behind Gilgamesh, who promptly used one to smack him across the face.

For any and all questions pertaining to Rin, Saber, Shirou, or the house:

Silence.

Which of course eventually earned him another blade to the gut.

Archer coughed a mouthful of blood onto the floor. At this rate the jeans he'd borrowed from Shirou were pretty much ruined. Archer could already hear his younger self whining up a storm about it.

He really needed to get back home to resume smacking some sense into that kid.

"Heh," he chuckled, looking up from the blood trickling down his chest. "That _almost_ hurt that time."

Gilgamesh made a face at the display, as if the very sight of Archer bleeding was offensive to him.

"Clean that up," he told Lancer, gesturing towards the sticky pool rapidly forming on the floor underneath the Servant.

Lancer gave Gilgamesh the biggest stink-eye he could manage. "You don't give the orders around here," he muttered, crossing his arms.

"Of course I do. I'm a King," Gilgamesh dismissed.

Lancer grumbled, but obediently pulled the short sword out of Archer's body and then went to get a mop.

Gilgamesh turned a surly gaze back on his captive. Archer's lack of concern about his predicament confused and annoyed him. He was rapidly running out of patience. "I'm growing tired of this, Mongrel," he growled. "Tell me already: What is your Noble Phantasm?"

Archer shifted idly in the chains. "Why don't you bring _your_ Noble Phantasms out of that Gate of yours and show them to me one at a time and I'll tell you yes or no?"

"You insolent little—!" Gilgamesh twitched and tensed as he reigned himself in, his fingers curling in aggravation. If Kotomine had not given him explicit instructions not to kill any of the other Servants or Masters—yet—the King of Heroes would have already filled Archer with holes.

His irritation was not helped by Archer's flat, "You're boring me."

Gilgamesh's eyes flashed with anger. "You are trying my patience, Mongrel. Perhaps you were unaware, but it is not considered wise to make me—"

Archer had the audacity to yawn in the middle of his sentence.

Incensed, Gilgamesh raised his fist, tightening the Chains of Heaven. Archer grimaced in discomfort, but seemed otherwise unimpressed, despite the fact that the breath was being squeezed out of him and he had to have cracked a few ribs by now.

"Is that… all you've got… King of Heroes?" he managed to get out, smirking cheekily. " _Rin_ can squeeze harder than you."

Seething, Gilgamesh entertained the thought of peeling Archer's skin off for several moments. "Lancer!" he shouted.

Lancer had just returned from fetching the cleaning supplies and looked none too happy at being barked at again. " _What?_ " he griped.

"The fireplace upstairs has iron pokers right?"

The Irishman raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Bring me one. I need to burn the smirk off this guy's face," Gilgamesh said through his teeth, glaring at Archer.

"What am I, your Servant?" Lancer complained. "I don't recall accepting a contract with you. Just because you're Kotomine's favorite doesn't mean you're allowed to boss me around."

"I can order you as I wish. I am the King of Heroes," Gilgamesh sniped back. "You should be grateful just to be in my presence."

"I'll be grateful when I'm _out_ of your presence!"

"If you two are done arguing like an old married couple—" Archer interjected.

Though Gilgamesh had gotten nothing out of him, Archer had been gathering plenty, simply by listening and observing. He now knew that Kirei Kotomine, the supposedly neutral mediator of the Grail War, was both Lancer and Gilgamesh's Master (how that worked he couldn't figure yet), and that he was covertly gathering intelligence on the other Masters. Lancer was resentful about the whole situation, which meant he could be reasoned with and brought to their side, with some convincing.

Oh, and Gilgamesh was basically a massive prick with a god-complex and the power to match but that went without saying.

The King of Heroes had simmered down a bit. He picked up a wineglass from a table and took a sip from it. "Let's try asking some different questions. I warn you, this is your last chance to be reasonable before I turn you into my new favorite pincushion." He set the wineglass back down, licking his lips with a suspicious leer. "You seem unusually familiar with Saber," he began. "What is your relationship to her?"

Archer wasn't surprised at the question. There had been a certain fixation in Gilgamesh's words and expressions on Saber. He'd noticed how the man's vocal inflection changed as he spoke her name, and how he'd seemed keen on knowing more about her specifically. The predatory glint in Gilgamesh's eyes told him all he needed to know about the motives behind the interest.

So he replied flatly: "We had intimate coital relations in the bathhouse of the Emiya residence."

Gilgamesh lost it. "YOU LOW-LIFE BASTARD SON OF A BITCH!" he screeched, his eyes bugging out with apoplectic fury. His arms flailed with his anger and outrage, as he bellowed at full volume. "YOU WOULD _DARE_ TOUCH THE KING'S TREASURES AND DEFOUL THEM WITH YOUR FILTHY TOUCH?!" he yelled.

"No," chuckled Archer, grinning to himself. "But the look on your face was priceless."

"MONGREL!" Gilgamesh howled, priming the Gate of Babylon to fill Archer with a thousand bladed weapons.

Of course that was when Archer unleashed a hail of copies of the swords in the Gate visible to him. Taken off-guard, Gilgamesh stumbled back, his barrage interrupted, and inadvertently loosened the Chains of Heaven.

It was just enough for Archer to slip free. He dematerialized into spirit form at once and, laughing, made his way out. Gilgamesh spewed curses and weapons after him. Lancer made a half-hearted show of stabbing the air in Archer's general direction, but was too busy chuckling at Gilgamesh's expense to really do anything to prevent Archer's escape.

Archer hastened from the churchgrounds as quickly as he could, holding a hand to his sore ribs and the cut in his diaphragm. He was still bleeding and sore, but he'd learned what he'd come to learn.

Now all that was left was to face Rin and with his warning hopefully earn her mercy for his failed mission.

He supposed he should also return Shirou's pants, though the boy probably wouldn't want them back now.

 _Though it's not like he has room to complain,_ thought Archer, musing on all the clothes _Shirou_ had ruined via bloodstained wounds.

He really was an idiot.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trollololo. XD


	8. Feline Follies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossposting from Tumblr again. This one was inspired by an anon message asking me to imagine Shirou as a kitten, rubbing his face on Saber affectionately.
> 
> I did. And then I wrote a crack oneshot because I guess that's just what I do.
> 
> Super crack. Much uncanon. You get the drill.

Rin stared down at the small orange tabby with narrowed eyes, still not entirely convinced that Saber wasn't pranking her.

"So... you're saying this is Caster's doing?" she asked, for clarification.

"It is as I have told you," Saber sighed, simmering in frustration as she explained the story yet again. "After we scouted the outskirts of Ryuudo temple, we fell into an ambush." Her fists clenched and unclenched as she relayed the tale. "As Shirou and I battled the skeletal warriors I sensed Caster's shadow hovering above us. She threw down a poultice, there was a blinding red flash and a cloud of smoke, and when it cleared Shirou was gone and in his place was this small kitten." She finished her speech with a deep breath and a helpless gesture towards the kitten in question. "I can _only_ conclude that Caster put a spell on him, perhaps to neutralize him as a Master or cut off his mana connection to me."

Rin had a pensive finger on her chin, studying the both of them thoughtfully. "Well at least that part I can confirm," she said, feeling with her mage's intuition the frayed, severed ends of mana silting off the tiny feline. "Your mana connection is definitely gone." Squinting, Rin leaned down, crouching in front of the table where the kitten was perched. Its wide brown eyes followed her movement, looking right at her.

She had to admit, it did kind of look like Shirou.

"Is that really you, Emiya-kun?" she asked, tilting her head.

One of its ears twitched. It bobbed its head yes in a distinctively human fashion and gave a despondent, _"Miaoww."_

Rin straightened a fraction, a look of dull surprise crossing her face for a moment.

And then she abruptly burst into hysterical laughter.

" _Pffffffffftt_ —ha ha ha ha ha ha!" she exclaimed, throwing back her head and holding her sides as though she would burst open.

"Rin!" Saber scolded, an offended look on her face. "This is serious! This is no time to laugh!"

"Fu-fu-fu—Of—of course not!" Rin managed between giggles. "This is _very_ serious. I just—" She peeked at Shirou again and laughed even harder. "E-Emiya-kun—kitten—Caster!—Fu-fu-fu—I—I guess that's one way to deal with him! Ha ha ha ha!"

The kitten shifted its stance and let out a long indignant whine that, were he in human form, Rin was almost certain would translate into an exasperated, _"Tohhhhhsakaaaaaa!"_

Which didn't help her giggles at all.

Saber steamed at Rin as the other girl doubled over with guffaws. Her heart crawled with conflicting emotions—worry for the tiny ball of fragile-looking fur that passed for Shirou, anxiety over the loss of her mana connection, anger at herself for failing to protect her Master from Caster's attack. She squeezed her fists tightly, fuming and shooting Rin a glare.

"I see you intend to be childish about this," she bit sharply. Saber squared her shoulders, attempting some manner of knightly dignity. "V-very well!" she sputtered, her voice strained and lacking confidence. "I will simply... confront Caster and... force her to reverse her spell on my own," she declared, turning stiffly and starting to head past Rin for the door.

The kitten let out a distressed cry and leapt from its post almost immediately, jumping from the table to the floor and running to intercept her. Shirou tangled himself in her ankles, putting his tiny paws around her leg and clinging tightly, and mewling with the most pitiful heartrending sounds she'd ever heard.

_"Saber no! Don't be rash about this! It's dangerous to go after Caster by yourself!"_ he was trying to tell her. _"Please don't go!"_

Saber bit her lip and looked down, her heart melting instantly at the sight of his little face, beady-eyed and pleading with her. Her shoulders slumped. She reached down to gently pick him up, and held him at face level in front of her.

"But Shirou!" she protested, her eyes wrinkling. "If we do not find a way to change you back, we will have to forfeit the Grail! We cannot fight like this! And we must do something!"

The kitten merely whined at her.

"He's right you know," Rin said, finally sober enough to talk straight. "Running off to fight Caster wouldn't help. As you are now, if you conserve your mana, you should last a good week or so, but if you get into a fight and especially if you use your Noble Phantasm..." She trailed off and let Saber draw her own conclusions.

Saber's lips pressed tightly together. Rin was right, of course, but the itch to take some kind of action—any kind—to help her Master, to hunt down Caster and make the accursed witch remove her curse, warred with her sense inside her.

Her eyes softened though, looking into Shirou's. He mewed again, whiskers twitching anxiously.

She exhaled, the tension winding out of her body with solemn defeat. "All right," she promised softly, tucking the kitten against her chest. "I'll stay."

The kitten stiffened, but as Saber started to gently pet his head he seemed to relax with a dazed, sort-of confused look.

_That's... actually kind of nice._.. came his dull thought. A rumble started in his chest, building to a purr as Saber stroked his ears.

"Well don't let him get _too_ comfortable with things," Rin snarked, her hands on her hips, eyes narrow again. "I can already tell you, undoing a spell like this is going to take a while." She turned to go. "Stay here. I'm going to go get my magic books."

"Please hurry," Saber begged weakly.

-FSN-

Rin flipped through the pages of the open books with pursed lips, muttering occasionally under her breath. Saber watched from the couch anxiously, the kitten Shirou settled into her lap. His head was upright and attentive, his ears flicking every so often. Saber stroked his head sometimes, almost more to reassure herself than to comfort him.

Rin leaned back on her knees with a frustrated sigh. "Just as I thought," she groaned. "This isn't going to be an easy fix."

Saber's hands gripped Shirou a fraction tighter, her eyes pinching at the corners. "But... you _can_ turn him back, can't you?" she asked.

"Oh I can do it," Rin waved off. She shifted and started to get to her feet. "It's just a tedious process and I don't even have half of the ingredients I need." She frowned down at her books, hands on her hips. "I'll need some time to memorize the incantation perfectly too. One mispronounced syllable and I could give him wings and a lizard's tail."

Saber shifted nervously in her seat at that, but Rin didn't notice.

From behind them, where he was leaning against the doorframe, Archer asked, "So, what is the plan of attack, Master?" He'd been watching for some time now, saying nothing but smirking in a manner that Saber found... irrationally irritating.

Rin ticked off her fingers, mentally counting the supplies she already had on hand. "Well, first stop is the basement to raid Dad's old stores," she decided. "The bloodspur's going to give us some trouble though. I can order it through the apothecary but even their fastest delivery takes two days. I guess if all else fails we can pop into the church to see if Kotomine has any lying around."

As she listened, Saber had been unconsciously squeezing Shirou tighter and tighter, until he finally let out an indignant squawk. She started, forced herself to relax her grip, standing up from the couch. "H-how long will it take to undo the spell?" she asked Rin. There was something that had just occurred to her.

Only paying attention half-attention, Rin grabbed up her book and scanned down the page. "Hard to say. Like I said, it could take a while to gather all the ingredients and after that I'll need at least half a day to prepare the counterspell and then—"

"Rin?" Saber interrupted worriedly.

Rin looked over. "Yes?"

Saber looked rather unsettled as she asked, "...What are we going to tell Taiga?"

Rin blanched.

-FSN-

In the end, despite Rin and Saber's best efforts, they managed to deflect Taiga's suspicions barely more than a day.

"Oh? Where's Shirou?" the teacher had asked that evening, immediately after her usual loud barging in to announce her hunger.

With a practiced ease and a confidence she didn't actually feel, Rin had recited, "He called earlier, said he was taking an extra shift at work tonight." She'd tugged at the apron strings behind her back nervously and busied herself with getting out various pots and pans from the cupboard, so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with Taiga. "As such, I'll be taking care of dinner. Sakura, would you pass me that ladle?"

Taiga had hummed in disappointment, but seemed to accept Rin's explanation.

Saber had had much less luck the following morning.

"He... um... has departed for school already," she'd stammered out. "He left early this morning."

"Huh? That doesn't sound like Shirou..." Taiga had commented, face scrunching with bewilderment. "And without leaving breakfast for me?!" she'd complained. "What's gotten into that boy? He's never been so inconsiderate!"

"She is on to us," Saber had whispered furiously to Rin after Taiga had finally left.

"I know, I know!" Rin had replied back in a panic.

By their third attempt, Taiga had moved past indignation into outright suspicion.

"He's ill you say?" she repeated, her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing them intently.

Rin coughed lightly into her fist, while Saber shifted apprehensively on her feet, both of them flustered and avoiding eye contact.

"Yes. Terribly ill," Saber said meekly. "I would not go in to see him right now." Her palms wrung together, clammy and moist, and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her skirt. Not even the danger of battle had made the knight-king sweat so much. She couldn't believe how afraid this petite whiplash of a twenty-something-year-old teacher made her.

Taiga harrumphed. "Nonsense! If he's so sick, as his guardian, of _course_ I should go and check on him!" And with that she shouldered past the two girls and stomped off in the direction of Shirou's room.

Rin grasped Saber's arms at once, wrinkling the fabric of her sleeves. _"Where is he?"_ she whispered frantically.

"Underneath the table in the dining room," she replied, gaping after Taiga's receding back. _"What are we going to do?"_

"I don't know!" Rin wailed. "Archer, can you see her? Do you think you could crawl under the covers before she reaches the room?"

_"And pretend to be that boy to arrest her suspicions?"_ came his voice inside her head, flat and sarcastic. _"Do you_ _ **really**_ _think that would work?"_ he asked pointedly.

Rin clawed her hair with her fists and half-screamed, half-moaned in desperation. Down the hall they heard the sliding of a door being opened. Rin took off in a sprint and before Taiga had even finished her confused, "Huh? Shirou isn't even in he—" she had felled the woman with a swift judo-chop to the neck.

Saber stared in horror at the crumpled form of Taiga and the equally horrified Rin standing above her, frozen in place and petrified by what she'd just done.

Their eyes met.

"It—It's for the best," Rin squeaked.

-FSN-

Telling Sakura was a completely different matter entirely.

Rin had been staunchly against it at first. But given that Sakura was over just as often, if not more so, than Taiga, it was all but inevitable that she would catch on just as quickly.

When she heard the thump from outside Shirou's room, Sakura abandoned the stewpot at once, not even bothering to turn off the heat, and came running. The kitten poked his head out from under the table at that, and gave a helpless wail as he pursued her. Sakura didn't even notice him.

"Is everything okay?" she asked anxiously, as she neared the scene. "What is..."

She trailed off, eyes widening at the sight that met her outside Shirou's door. Rin was still petrified stiff over Taiga's supine form and Saber appeared to be trying to disappear into the wall with embarrassment.

"Fuji... mura... sensei?" Sakura called weakly, a hand up by her heart.

Nerves still rattled, at the limits of her wits, and upon seeing her sister standing there, Rin broke down and confessed everything.

Sakura took it remarkably well.

They moved back into the dining room to tell her the whole story, Saber going straight to the stewpot to try and salvage what was left of their meal. Sakura listened quietly, sitting with her hands in her lap and darting occasional wide-eyed glances at the kitten.

"And so that's why I knocked out Taiga," Rin finished, putting her head down on the table miserably.

Sakura leaned over the table at once, looking plaintively at the kitten with an earnestness that was almost adorable.

"Hang in there, sempai!" she cried, her hands flat on the table as she looked into his face. "I'm sure Nee-san will be able to turn you back to normal!"

_"Mew!"_

"Of course I can," Rin mumbled into her arms. "It's really not that hard when you get right down to it..."

Saber awkwardly ladled the contents of the stewpot into three bowls, juggling them in her arms as she came towards the table. "It may be slightly burned, but it seems to still be edible," she said.

An audible snore drifted up from the other side of the table, where they had dragged Taiga.

"Great," Rin muttered. "One problem solved. But what are we going to do about _her?_ "

"Oh, don't worry about Fujimura-sensei," Sakura piped up. Some unreadable expression was on her gentle face. "I'll take care of it," she promised, with a curiously eerie smile.

Rin and Saber never found out what Sakura told Taiga exactly, but the next time they saw her awake she was as chipper as ever and acted as if everything was perfectly normal, apparently just accepting Shirou's temporary absence without further questions.

When asked, Sakura merely gave the same odd smile.

Both girls found it extremely unnerving.

-FSN-

It should have been so easy to complete his mission with Shirou's present unfortunate circumstances. But much to his eternal consternation, Archer found, two things quickly emerged to become infuriating obstacles to his path of self-annihilation.

The first was that Shirou was actually maddeningly elusive in this form. Archer wasn't quite sure how cognizant the boy was of himself now that he was a cat, or how aware he was of his surroundings, but Shirou seemed to remember disliking Archer, and made his dislike vehemently apparent, curling up protectively around Saber's neck and hissing loudly whenever he entered the room. Or bolting for the top of the kitchen cupboards where he was out of reach and inaccessible. Or hiding behind Sakura's skirts.

There were a lot of new hiding places for Shirou as a cat and Archer was not yet quite desperate enough to destroy the whole of the Emiya residence just to catch him. And despite Saber being one Excaliblast away from disappearing he had no doubts that she wouldn't hesitate to use her illustrious Noble Phantasm on him if he so much as twitched in Shirou's general direction the wrong way.

As for Sakura, well...

Something about the girl—something in the way she tilted her head at him when he was glaring after Shirou too hard, or some strange and dangerous gleam in her eyes—just made him downright nervous.

Better not to risk it.

The second obstacle he'd found was that, when it came right down to it... Archer just really really didn't have it in him to kill a kitten.

Even if said kitten _was_ his naive younger self.

Couldn't do it.

Archer sighed deeply as he watched the orange tabby glare at him from across the room, with narrowed golden eyes and bristled fur. Shirou was hunched up underneath a dresser, a low growl rumbling through his tensed body, looking at Archer like he thought the man had come to give him a bath.

"Count yourself lucky, kid," Archer sighed again, dropping to his haunches in defeat. "If Caster had turned you into anything less cuddly I'd have already skewered you."

He rubbed a hand over his temple.

"I'm never going to live this down," he complained.

-FSN-

It wasn't so bad being a cat, really.

Oh sure, there was no way he could fight in the Grail War like this, and he didn't much relish the thought of eating mice and dried food the rest of his life... not to mention Issei and Ayako would worry about where he'd went... and his schoolwork would suffer... and he'd never be a hero of justice if he stayed a cat... but aside from that it wasn't that awful. Sakura kept him well-fed, sneaking him pieces of turkey and steak whenever she could, scratching him behind the ears and cooing that he would be back to normal soon. His senses—smell and hearing especially—had sharpened significantly. He could fit into cracks and crannies he never could before, climb to places he normally couldn't, and Shirou couldn't help but explore the house and marvel at the rooms from this new perspective.

Not to mention, in this form, Saber found him absolutely irresistible.

She rarely left the house if she could help it, and if Sakura wasn't there looking after him took the task upon herself, often scooping him up and holding him in her arms. If he sat down next to her she would unconsciously reach out a hand to pet his back. She liked to tickle his ears and scratch him under the chin, and she even nuzzled his face with hers a few times, with a lovely expression that had left Shirou quite unable to think for several minutes.

Shirou was thoroughly enjoying the attention and made a point of curling up in Saber's lap to nap and be petted whenever he could.

Still, he hoped Rin would have the counterspell ready soon. He was starting to get really sick of his fur sticking to his tongue whenever he washed himself.

-FSN-

"Verändern, verändern, verändern..."

Rin chanted in German as she titled the bowlful of purified liquid over, so that it dripped into the magic circle. Shirou sat in the center, tail flicking nervously, ears twitching this way and that as Rin performed the counterspell. Surrounding them were Archer, Saber, and Sakura, all watching apprehensively as the runes of the circle began to glow and shimmer, and a visible cloud of prana wavered in the air above the kitten.

Saber bit her lip, squeezing her hands tightly in front of her as the glow brightened, the prana cloud descended, and the small orange form of Shirou was lost to sight for a moment.

_Please return to me, Master,_ she begged, watching as a dark shape twisted inside the glowing fog, growing taller.

Rin's chanting reached a climax, the glow became blindingly white a moment, and both Saber and Sakura shielded their eyes.

When it faded, there was Shirou, his hair a little mussed up but otherwise looking none the worse for wear.

He tentatively flexed his hand in front of his face. "I think it worked," he said.

Rin gave her hair a prideful flip. "Of course it worked," she harrumphed confidently. "I'm not the Tohsaka family heir for nothi—"

She cut herself off, eyes widening upon realizing that the restored Shirou was, well... stark naked.

"—thi—thi—WAAAAUUGH! Where are your clothes?!" she cried, shielding her face with her arms.

Shirou's heart jolted and he looked down.

He gawped and tried to cover himself immediately.

Behind him, Sakura had blushed full-face red, even as she stared openly with wide eyes. Saber had her hand over her mouth, and was very determinedly looking down towards his feet, her cheeks pinker than Shirou had even seen.

Archer, meanwhile, could be heard holding back snickers in the corner.

It was the most annoying sound in the world.

Shirou's face flamed with heat and he shrunk into his shoulders, glowering. Several long and awkward seconds passed.

"Well... don't just stand there!" he complained.

"S-sempai..." Sakura stammered, finally turning her face away with embarrassment.

Saber managed to overcome her mortification enough to reach down and pick up Rin's coat from the floor, holding it out to him with one hand while the other still cupped her face.

"Please, use this to cover yourself, Master," she said, slightly muffled.

The boy accepted the coat gratefully, slinging it on at once and immediately buttoning down the front.

"Jeez..." he muttered.

"Sorry about that," Rin could be heard mumbling. "It just didn't occur to me before we started that you weren't wearing anything."

"It's fine, Tohsaka," he said, even though his ears still burned and inside he felt like crawling into a deep hole after exposing himself in front of not only Saber but Sakura and Rin as well. Along with Archer. The red-clad Servant was still snickering irreverently goddammit.

His Servant, his classmate, a girl he considered almost family, and the man he wanted most to punch in the face. A perfect quartet of embarrassing.

Shirou inhaled slowly, then let out a deep breath.

"I left some, um... 'business' out in the front yard," he said, gesturing toward the door with his thumb. "I'll go get changed and then clean that up. Sakura, will you be all right to start dinner?" he asked.

Sakura turned back from the wall she had been finding so interesting to reply confidently, "Y-yes, sempai. Of course." She beamed brightly, rolling up her sleeves and turning to get to work.

Switching gears, Shirou opened his mouth to thank Rin, but she was already hastily gathering up her magic books, her bowl, and her jewels and seemed very reluctant to engage him in conversation.

"Ah, Tohsaka," he said, attempting anyway. He tried to catch her eyes as she bent down. "Thanks. I really appreciate you turning me back to nor—"

She straightened up with a rigid snap that surprised him, her finger pointed at him in warning.

"Never speak of this again," she growled, "and I'll consider us even."

With that she turned on her heel and stalked away.

"...Okay?" Shirou replied, helplessly.

A slight flutter at his side alerted him to Saber. She was smiling up at him, the pink receding from her face.

"I am happy to see you returned to human form," she said. "I was terribly worried our enemies would take advantage of your defenseless state."

"Oh?" Shirou teased, tilting his head. "Is that why you couldn't keep your hands off me?"

The pink returned. "I have no idea what you're referring to," Saber denied, not looking at him.

"I seem to recall you petting me. A lot. And sitting me in your lap. And—"

"I was merely—" Saber interrupted, then scrambled for the words a moment, "—keeping you close so I could defend you in case of an attack."

Shirou chuckled. "Sure, sure." He couldn't help the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. "If you say so."

She crossed her arms in an adorable pout. "Shirou, I don't appreciate the tone you're using. I have spoken nothing but the truth."

Shirou chuckled harder and Saber fumed a moment.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he managed, in-between giggles. He composed himself and offered her a smile. "It's just nice to know that Saber has a gentle side after all," he said warmly.

Saber's eyes blinked open wide and the anger dropped at once from her face, leaving a blank look of thunderstruck bafflement. Her cheeks colored a few shades darker and she averted her gaze shyly, her fingers playing with each other in front of her.

"You are... too kind..." she murmured. "I... will admit I did find you in your small feline form rather... endearing..."

She cleared her throat.

"I shall not keep you from your task. Please, go on ahead and get changed. I will join you in the courtyard shortly."

"Okay Saber," Shirou said, still smiling, heading past her toward his room.

With the way things had turned out, he almost didn't know if wanted to kill Caster or thank her. Maybe being turned into a kitten for a few days hadn't been so unforgiva—

Archer gave one last snicker behind him as he passed through the door.

"That coat doesn't suit you. You don't have the legs for it, _Kitten Emiya_ ," the Servant mocked.

Shirou gave an irritable twitch.

Kill her. Definitely kill her.


	9. Starstruck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a spate of AU prompts I did on Tumblr! This one was #33 on the list, "celebrity/fan AU". I had a choice of three and I went with this one because it was hilarious and Shirou's already such a damn fanboy for Saber I knew it would be easy to write.
> 
> I'll not keep you from it.

_"By my holy sword, I smite thee and lay waste to your kingdom, thou foul terror of the underworld!"_

Shirou leaned on his hand and sighed dreamily, watching the blonde-haired warrior queen on the TV screen slice through a dozen demons.

 _Arturia's so cool… Always so into her character…_ he thought.

His admiring was cut short as the regal image of Queen Saber suddenly switched to the beaming fake smile of the Channel Six newscaster.

Shirou whipped around indignantly. "Oy! I was watching that, Fuji-nee!" he protested.

Taiga held the remote in her hand, lazily pointed at the TV. "You can change it back once the news is finished," she said, unconcerned with Shirou's irritation. "Besides," she added giving him a concerned look, "aren't you a little old to be watching those shows?"

The boy crossed his arms sourly, looking away with a surly pout.

"I'm not too old for it…" he mumbled.

After a moment or two, he gave up on Taiga surrendering the remote anytime soon, and reached across the table to pull the newspaper towards him. He scanned the headlines listlessly, grumbling to himself about being behind on episodes _again._

Something in the ad pages caught his attention. He pulled the newspaper up to his nose, amber eyes widening.

There was an open casting call for upcoming episodes of _Holy Queen Saber._ Looking for young men, age sixteen to twenty-four, in good health, "preferably clean-shaven and fresh-faced" whatever that meant, filming nearby. Shirou checked his watch, jumping up when he saw that the cattle call was going on right now.

"I'll be back, Fuji-Nee," he promised, scooping up the paper and his keys before dashing to the front hall to put on his shoes.

"Remember to bring home some groceries!" she called after him, eyes fixed on the TV.

-FSN-

"Hmm…" mused the long-haired woman, studying him up and down from behind thin-rimmed glasses. "What do you think? Too tall?" she asked her companion.

The extras casting director brushed lint off his yellow hawaiian shirt and gave a toothy grin. "Just tall enough. _And_ he's got the right look."

The woman turned to him with a satisfied smile. "All right then! Congratulations Mister Emiya, you're now an Andolian swordsman." She handed him a stack of paperwork and pointed off towards the staging grounds. "Report to Trailer 36 for makeup and then go to Tent B for costuming."

Shirou clutched the stack to his chest. "R-Right."

That was how, after signing multiple non-disclosure agreements and liability waivers, Shirou found himself on a rocky patch of ground in Fuyuki park, his face lightly dusted with dirt and make-up scratches, weighed down by fair quality plate metal and chain mail, surrounded on all sides by other young men in costume armor, being yelled at through a bullhorn by a red-faced man in shorts and a black vest.

And yards away from his idol.

Arturia Pendergrast was a little ways down the hill, with the main unit, standing out of frame and waiting for the call to take her mark. She was in Queen Saber's main outfit—the blue dress with the gleaming silver armor—and she was leaning on her sword, looking every inch the picture of a noble fantasy monarch.

Shirou was having a hard time keeping his eyes off her.

"Right!" bellowed the Third AD. "Remember, you are all tired, it's been a long battle, you've been fighting for days and days and you're all determined to finish it. Everyone on their marks?" He paused a moment as his band of extras shuffled around. "Stand by!"

He couldn't resist one more peek at Arturia.

Her mouth was open in a yawn and he had to stifle an embarrassing noise from how cute it was.

"Background, action!"

Shirou scrambled to lift his prop sword and swing it in a manner that looked reasonably competent. He felt his form falling apart all over the place.

Well, at least he was hidden in the background behind the others.

-FSN-

Two hours into the shoot and Shirou didn't have to pretend he was tired anymore. How many takes could one scene possibly need? No wonder actors got cranky on the set.

Arturia seemed to be taking the extended shoot with grace, though. Every time Shirou caught a glimpse of her she was reviewing her script or practicing her blocking, stretching out her limbs, discussing something with the director.

 _She's such a professional…_ he thought with admiration.

About midday, they came to a particularly tricky shot with a long reset time. The Third AD dismissed them from the immediate set, but told them to stay nearby to be on hand when the call came out.

Shirou slumped over onto a boulder. He felt hot and his face itched all over. He didn't dare scratch at his make-up though, every time he tried the continuity supervisor glared murderously at him from across the way.

The boy tugged at his collar. He looked up.

And had to stop himself from screaming.

Arturia's handlers had let her wander off set too, and now she stood not more than ten feet away from him, taking a deep drag from a clear water bottle.

Shirou scrambled to his feet, his costume armor making too loud a rustle and metal clink for comfort. He was certain his mouth was open but his body wouldn't respond to his commands to close it.

Arturia wiped her mouth and capped her bottle, glancing over. She smiled, recognizing the starstruck expression on the boy's face.

"There's water over by the AD station, if you need it," she offered kindly.

"Ah… n-no… I'm fine," Shirou heard himself squeaking out.

There was some kind of pressure in his ears and his lungs didn't seem to be working right.

Shirou found himself bowing stiffly.

"S-S-Sabe—Arturia-san!" he stammered out. "I—I've seen… all of your movies! And every episode of _Holy Queen Saber_!" He was shaking all over. "You're so talented! I think you're just the coolest!"

Unholy stars in heaven had he regressed into a five-year-old?

Arturia didn't seem to mind his spasm of fanboyish flailing. "Would you like an autograph?" she asked, amused.

Shirou looked up in surprise. "That would be—really?!"

The blonde smiled again, and tore off a corner of one of her script pages. Finding a pen from somewhere tucked in her armor, she scribbled down on it, then passed it to him. Shirou took it mutely, delirious with glee.

"Hang in there. We'll be done with this shot soon," she encouraging, wandering back over to the awning where the makeup girls checked her over, reapplying anything that had come off.

Shirou clung to the little scrap of paper for the rest of the shoot.

-FSN-

"What's with that goofy expression?" his classmate, Rin Tohsaka, had said, making a weirded out face at Shirou when she arrived to help make dinner that night.


	10. Escort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the AU prompt meme again. This was #31 "prostitute/client AU".
> 
> ...Yeah I don't know either.
> 
> But I took a crack at it anyway and I was actually really okay with the results? I wasn't sure what to write for it at first but then I thought, "You know, Gilgamesh would make a really creepy-ass pimp or client." and things just kind of fell into place from there.
> 
> Enjoy?

Saber shivered in the chilly night air. Her clothes afforded little protection from the icy winter breeze. She stamped her boots, rubbing her arms furiously as she scanned the street.

Low traffic tonight. Not very many people walking around, and most of them gave her a wide berth. All except a man with familiar blonde hair, in a black leather jacket, who turned onto her street from around the corner and immediately began making a beeline for her.

She cringed upon spotting him.

_Oh no… Not him… Anyone but him…_

She desperately wanted to just abandon her street corner and hide. But instead she jutted her chin and glared defiantly at the man, who grinned lecherously as he closed the distance.

"Evening, Saber," he drawled, stopping a few feet in front of her. "Still working this corner I see."

"I'm waiting for a client," she cut off bluntly. "If you have no further business with me, then be on your way."

The blonde leaned a hand on the brick wall behind her, encroaching into her personal space. "What if I want to purchase your… _services_?"

Saber gave an internal shudder, but hardened her glare. "As I have said, I have another engagement," she said through gritted teeth. "Be on your way, sir."

A pale white hand reached up to play with a strand of her hair, making her tense. The blonde man's red eyes gleamed with perverse amusement.

"Don't lie to me, Saber…" he purred. He rolled the strand of her hair between his fingers. "We both know no one else can touch you as long as I'm around."

Her eyes burned up at him, but she couldn't stop the spike of fear that coursed through her.

-FSN-

Meanwhile, across the street, Shirou Emiya closed the door to the restaurant behind him, locking it securely. He was bone tired, aching from the last-minute cleaning he'd done. The waitresses had gone home hours ago. He must've been the only one still working at this late hour.

Maybe that was why the scene on the corner couldn't help but catch his eye.

Shirou stowed his key uncomfortably, not wanting to eavesdrop but unable to pull his attention away. The woman he'd seen before, standing at that corner late nights after the dinner rush, occasionally leaving with strangers.

The man was new to him, and evidently not someone the woman enjoyed the company of.

It burned him up inside. Shirou hesitated, his hand hovering by the door handle to his car, listening in on the conversation.

"Please…" She sounded almost weary. "Haven't you other women to keep you company tonight?"

"Obviously," came his nonchalant response. "But none of them provide the same amusement you do, Saber-chan."

She jerked away from him. "Do not address me so casually!" she snapped.

 _Just drive off. It's not your business,_ a voice in Shirou's head told him. He opened the door, his movements slow, wrestling with himself all the while.

The blonde man leaned into the woman's space, looming predatorily. "What's the matter, Saber?" he taunted. "Still think you're too good for me?"

That did it. Shirou slammed the car door shut and stalked across the street, walking over to them. Both of them turned in surprise to face him. He ignored the blonde man completely, focusing all his attention on Saber.

"How much?"

She started at that. "Pardon?"

"How much to buy a night with you?" Shirou asked.

Not missing a beat she told him, "Ten thousand yen."

"What?!" the man shrieked, suddenly offended. "You charged me twice that amount just last week!" he complained.

Her sharp green eyes shot daggers at him. "Hazard pay," she bit snidely.

"Why you little—"

"Done," Shirou said, interrupting the blonde's rant. He shoved a stack of rubber-banded bills into Saber's chest, then grabbed hold of her wrist. "Come on."

He started to pull her towards the car.

"Now wait just a moment!" A hand latched around his bicep in turn, pinching harshly. The blonde's red eyes were flashing, full of anger. "She's spoken for, kid. Take your filthy hands off her and scram."

Shirou matched his irritated expression with blank indifference. "I've already paid for her," he pointed out calmly. "If you think that's unfair, you can take it up with the police."

The blonde's eyes bugged out with fury, but Shirou just shrugged his arm from the man's grip, pulling Saber along behind him.

"Get in the car," he told her sternly, letting go of her wrist and moving stiffly around to the driver's side, eyes fixated ahead.

Saber fumbled with the handle a moment before swinging the door open, quickly getting in. The closing slam of the door and the cutoff of the night's ambient noise made her feel… safer.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief as the car started and they peeled away from her irate customer.

-FSN-

They drove in silence for a long time, the streetlamps casting bright shadows across their faces as they passed by. Saber sat quietly in the back seat and nursed the stack of bills in her hands.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, attempting to launch into her usual script. "Thank you for your interest. It's nice to meet you, sir," she said.

Shirou grunted noncommittally.

Saber forgot about following the script and scooted forward in her seat. "Pardon me, but… you don't really seem the type to partake in… intimate services," she said, self-consciously blushing and tugging at her short sleeves.

"I'm not," he admitted. His eyes were heavy with some hidden emotion as he continued, "I just don't like seeing people get hurt."

"Wouldn't it have been better to simply call the police?"

He shrugged. "They would've taken too long to get there. I didn't even think of it, to be honest. I just wanted to get you away from Goldie as fast as possible."

"You shouldn't have done that!" Saber protested, suddenly anxious. She gripped the back of his chair with tight fingers. "Do you know who he is? What he could be capable of? Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?" Blood rushed hotly through her face. "Suppose he'd had a gun?" she challenged. "What then? Would you have thrown yourself in the way, simply to save me?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

The sincerity of it startled her. She slowly leaned back into her seat again. "That's… suicidal…" she said softly.

"Bullies piss me off," Shirou said simply. "I'd rather die defending someone than stand by and do nothing."

Saber's arms came up to hold herself around the shoulders. "You don't… you shouldn't care about me that way," she murmured.

"Sorry," he replied. "But I do."

Silence reigned between them for several minutes. The only sound was the gentle rumble of the car's engine, and the scrape of the tires against the road.

"…Thank you," Saber whispered.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes. Yes, I… I'm not sure it would be safe to return tonight." Saber shuddered, imagining "Goldie" barging in on the little hostel she called home, angry and swearing, yelling in Master Kirei's face about their "understanding". "Perhaps it will never be safe now…" she mused grimly.

Shirou looked at her in concern. "You know… the restaurant is hiring if you need—" He coughed awkwardly, turning back to face the road. "—if you're looking for another line of work," he finished.

A smile touched her lips. She folded the stack of bills against her chest. Despite the winter chill she felt strangely… warm.

"I may just have to take you up on that offer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert your own favorable happy ending here. Personally I'm fond of the one where Gilgamesh tries to come harass Saber at the restaurant and Shirou lays him out flat, lol.


	11. Reconnect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Generic modern non-magic AU, from the AU prompt meme "exes meeting again after not speaking for years", requested with Archer/Rin because of course. XD
> 
> I had way too much fun with this one.

"Oh no…" Rin groaned, pulling the brim of her wool beret down over her eyes and attempting to hide behind her sister.

"Nee-san? What is it?" Sakura asked, looking puzzled as she nursed her champagne glass.

Rin pointed across the room at a tall head with white hair standing out above the crowd. "Why is _he_ here?" she moaned. "Who even invited him?"

Sakura studied the man from across the way, taking note of his sharply cut suit and chiseled features and vaguely recognizing him. "I think Emiya-kun did," she said.

Her sister mumbled a few choice words and complaints about Shirou into the shoulder of Sakura's sweater.

"Hey Tohsaka!" Oblivious to the conversation, Shirou himself walked up, greeting her cheerfully. "Glad you could make it."

She shot a glare at him from around Sakura. "I really hate you."

Shirou's face crinkled like a kicked puppy's. "What's _that_ for? What did I do?" he whined.

"You invited the Tall Dark Megajerk!" Rin huffed hotly, her fists digging into her hips.

"Tohsaka, come on, it was _years_ ago that—"

"Two years or two months, it doesn't matter!" Rin interrupted. "We had an agreement, Emiya! A binding oath! You were never supposed to bring him up or mention him to me again or do something equally stupid like try to hook us back up—"

"I'm not even remotely doing that!" Shirou protested.

"Then why is he here?" Rin demanded. "Don't tell me it's because he just couldn't resist your famous cinnamon and brown sugar snickerdoodle Christmas cook—"

"Hello Rin."

The voice caused an immediate chill on Rin's face. She let out an aggrieved sigh and composed herself, straightening her shoulders and masking her face with an aloof, indifferent expression.

Stiffly, she turned around and nodded once at the tall, white-haired man.

"Archer," she acknowledged.

They all stood there for a long moment.

The awkward was almost palpable.

"Well okay, I'm going to get another drink," Shirou said hastily, already turning around to escape. "Sakura, do you want anythi—"

"Don't you think you can weasel out of this!" Rin snapped, grabbing hold of his tie and yanking him back. "You invited him; if I'm gonna suffer his presence, you are too."

"Still pushing around your boyfriends I see," Archer commented with a snide undertone, idly swishing the contents of his champagne glass.

Rin let go of Shirou with a huff. "We aren't dating. Anyway, what do you care?" She turned up her nose. "If I recall, you barely even noticed what I did from day to day."

"I'm sorry. Your stubborn antics gave me the impression that you were a capable independent woman who didn't need to be babied," he snarked back.

The skirts of her velvet red dress swished as she whirled to face him. "Babied?! Why that—you—I never—" she sputtered. Her fists clenched into tight balls by her sides. "It was never about being _babied_ , you idiot!" she shouted. "It was about being _romanced!_ Swept off my feet! Made to feel special and like a princess!"

A sly grin spread across Archer's mouth. "Oh? You mean like all those nights I took you to the rose garden?"

Rin flushed, heat rushing to her face as she recalled moonlight and twinkling stars, candles and sweet fragrances.

"That—That has nothing to do with—irrelevant and—" she stammered. She inhaled sharply. "Sakura, you remember. It was only three or four times that he—"

She turned around for support, but both Sakura and Shirou were gone.

Reluctantly, she faced Archer again. "All right, so you weren't half bad. But the rest of the time you acted like I was invisible!" she complained.

"Again, from your belligerent behavior and constant protests, that's what I assumed you wanted," he argued.

"Well your constant flirting and teasing didn't help!" she spat back.

He took a casual step forward, grin widening. "Don't tell me you don't miss it," he purred.

The sound was like a sledgehammer to parts of her that she'd thought long buried. She felt her knees give a tremble and her mind fill with a slight daze. Her heart fluttered.

She shook herself, willing the butterflies in her stomach to settle. "E-even if I did…" she blustered. She looked down, crossing her arms tightly. "I lied earlier. Shirou Emiya and I are in a relationship."

Archer narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Would that be the same Shirou Emiya that is currently tongue-deep in that pretty young blonde woman?" he asked, gesturing with his glass.

Rin flinched, whipping her head around to see her classmate making out with his _actual_ girlfriend. "Dammit!" she fumed.

Today just didn't want to go well for her, did it?

Embarrassed, she looked down at her feet, wishing she could just crawl away and hide behind a curtain for the rest of the party.

Archer's face softened. Surprisingly gently, he reached over and touched her arm. Rin had to bite her lips to resist sighing like a lovesick schoolgirl. His hands were just as warm as she remembered.

"Would you like to go see the garden again?" he asked. "Just once. For old time's sake?"

Her chin lifted. She looked into his steel gray eyes and melted inside, an ache starting in her chest, a wellspring of longing. She squeezed herself as though she would break, her eyes trembling.

He was still so handsome. So charming.

She let out a long sigh, feeling her resistance evaporating. She'd probably regret this later, but for now, all she knew was how much she'd missed him.

She uncurled her arms and placed one hand in Archer's delicately, avoiding eye contact. "Don't think I'm just doing this because I don't like the party," she muttered.

"No of course not," he teased. "Miss Tohsaka has a reputation to keep after all."

"Dummy," she whispered, but it had undertones of affection laced through it. She couldn't help leaning her head against his arm as they departed.

-FSN-

"What do you _mean_ Tohsaka left with Archer?!"

Sakura straightened her skirt, brushing lint off it. "Just what I said, Sempai. Nee-san and Archer got into his car and drove off. She looked happy." Sakura smiled to herself. "It was actually very sweet."

"She yells at me for inviting him and then she skips out with him the first chance she gets." Shirou shook his head with a groan. "I just don't understand girls some days."

The blonde woman chuckled and patted his back comfortingly.


	12. Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'nother prompt from the AU meme, this one the ever popular "coffee shop au".
> 
> I'll be honest I'm not entirely sure what the appeal of that particular scenario is but maybe that's because I'm not a coffee drinker. I may or may not have drawn upon my own experience for this one.

Shirou leaned back and rubbed his temples again, for the fifth time within the hour. His head was almost full to bursting with equations and numbers, and a migraine was beginning to throb inside his skull. He looked down at the small round table covered with his books and notes and several loose leaf sheets of paper, along with two empty cups of coffee.

He was starting to consider getting up to buy a third when he felt someone hovering at his shoulder.

"What are you studying?"

The voice belonged to a young woman, a few years his senior, with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and blue-rimmed glasses framing her lovely green eyes.

Shirou gestured tiredly with his pencil, glad for the distraction. "Advanced Trig," he said.

The woman grimaced in sympathy. "Your exams are coming up soon, aren't they?"

He nodded. "Next week." He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "And I still haven't finished my end-of-semester report for World Literature. I've been practically living at this cafe the whole week."

"I've noticed," he heard her say. She straightened abruptly, extending her hand with a smile. "Pardon me. My name is Arturia. I work in the print shop next door," she said, gesturing towards the far wall.

Shirou stood to his feet respectfully, shaking her hand with a firm grip. "Shirou Emiya, college student," he joked. "It must be busy for you this time of year as well."

"It's not so bad. Most of the rush has been flustered students printing their homework last minute," she quipped, a teasing gleam in her eyes.

He laughed, suddenly feeling very shy about the warm and friendly way she was looking at him. His eyes drifted towards the floor.

Her brows crinkled. "I am sorry, am I distracting you?"

Shirou quickly looked up again. "Ah, no," he said quickly. "I mean, I needed a break anyway. I feel like my head's about to explode."

"Then… may I buy you something?" she offered.

He didn't quite know how to react to that. "Er, I…" he stammered, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm fine, really. You don't… have to."

Her smile returned. "I insist," she said, already turning to head towards the counter. "In return, why don't you come visit the shop when you're finished with your report? We'd be happy to give you a discount."

…Well that seemed fair enough. "Sure… all right," Shirou agreed, not wanting to seem ungrateful in the face of her kind and generous offer. He trotted along behind her as she stepped back into the line.

"What would you like?" Arturia asked as they neared the front. "Bagel, tea, cappuccino?"

"Just another coffee will do."

She frowned, looking worried. "You should really eat something too," she said. "You need to keep up your energy."

"Well…" Shirou looked through the glass display, considering his options for a moment. "How about one of those oat bran muffins, then?"

Arturia nodded and stepped up to place the order. As they waited, she and Shirou chatted idly about exams, the holiday rush, the unusually pleasant weather, and a little bit about their passions. Arturia seemed especially interested when Shirou told her about his humanitarian volunteer projects.

When the order came, Arturia gently handed Shirou his hot cup, passing him a business card as well.

"We're open late," she said, adjusting the lay of the blue scarf around her neck, pulling it tighter. "If you wish, you may simply e-mail us your report and we will have it printed out and ready for you when you come in. We'd love to have you." She lifted her cup and turned to go, looking back over her shoulder at him. "Until tomorrow then? I assume you will be in here studying as usual."

"Probably," Shirou muttered, taking the bag with his muffin from the cashier.

Arturia gave him one last smile and–was it his imagination or had she also _winked?_ "I will look forward to seeing you, Shirou Emiya."

With that, she breezed out the side door of the coffee shop, the wind blowing in her hair and lifting the tail end of her scarf.

Shirou was feeling slightly dazed. He held his things in his hands awkwardly. There had been something in Arturia's words or tone that seemed to hint at more than just polite conversation. In fact it was almost like she'd been… _flirting_ with him.

He blinked in confusion as he stared out the windows.

"Did I just get asked out?"

* * *


	13. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting back into our general "Saber lives" AU, though at least one terrible alternate possibility is imagined by Shirou within.
> 
> I am weak for him needing to constantly remind himself that she's real and there with him I am _weak_ I tell you.

A soft touch tapped his shoulder.

"Shirou?"

Shirou started awake with a sharp intake of breath, freezing in place as his mind tried to catch up, not recognizing his surroundings.

Slowly, the darkness, the terrible burning, and the shrieking voices faded away and there was only Saber, kneeling by his bed with a look of concern.

"All you all right? Your sleep was restless," she was asking. "I could hear you turning over from—"

Shirou sat up, wordlessly throwing his arms around Saber.

"Ah—" she blurted, startled.

His face buried in her shoulder, his hands clutching tight handfuls of the backs of her sleeves. His breath hitched, shaking fearfully.

Saber's concern grew. "Shirou…" she breathed, her body releasing the tension of her initial surprise.

"Saber…" he said. His voice wavered, uncertain. "You're here, right? You're really here?"

Her arms came up around him softly.

"I'm here," she reassured him.

"You won't disappear?"

Alarmed, Saber jumped to allay his fears. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised, saying the words directly into his ear.

Shirou gave a shuddering sigh. Saber's scent—lilies and clean linens—was familiar and comforting, and her hair tickled against his cheek. The warmth of her body pressed against his chest, her heartbeat steady against his shirt.

"What is it?" Saber asked him.

He exhaled, tightening his arms around her. He couldn't tell her about the shattered pieces of his blades, flying past his face, the huge, bugling grotesque… _thing_ … rising up above the rooftops of Ryuudou Temple, the foul vile-smelling black liquid it spewed out, consuming everything. How he'd watched her stand there in front of the rising wall of it, a frantic voice in his head screaming, _Don't touch the mud!_ , reaching out for her but seeing the Grail's curse envelope and consume her, stealing her from sight. Crying out her name and then choking on the mud as it washed over him as well, the taste of it sour and hot, burning its way down into him. Searching for her body even in the smothering mud and the horrible stabbing darkness, feeling his flesh melt away.

No. She was here. She was alive. It had just been a dream.

"Nothing," he mumbled. He pressed his forehead against her collar, relief reverberating through him. "I'm just… I'm really glad you're still here, Saber."

Saber gave a nod of understanding, her fingers sliding up into his hair. "Are you having nightmares again?" she asked.

"Mmm," Shirou replied, his voice muffled by her shirt. "But it's okay now."

She smiled gently, one hand brushing across his ear and cheek. "Then you should try to go back to sleep. You've been working so hard; you need your rest."

She pet his hair a little while longer, letting him calm down against her, then discreetly tried to extricate herself from his embrace.

His grip just tightened stubbornly.

"Shirou—?" she started.

"Don't," he said. "Don't go. Stay with me. Please," he mumbled into her neck.

Looking up towards the ceiling long-sufferingly, Saber wrapped her arms back around Shirou's back.

"Very well," she whispered, as she leaned down into the futon with him.

The quiet sound of his breathing slowed as he eased into sleep.


	14. Shy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-magic AU. Short and sweet. Enjoy!

"Emiya-kun? Are you listening to me?"

Shirou snapped into full attention, blurting out a befuddled, "Huh?"

Rin sighed heavily in exasperation. "Jeez. What's with you tonight? Your head is somewhere else."

Somewhat embarrassed, Shirou rubbed the back of his head. "Ah. Sorry Rin," he apologized.

"Anyway," his friend said, deciding to continue her story.

Shirou was already tuning her out again by the third word, his eyes drifting back across the room to the sight that had been stealing his attention since the moment they'd arrived.

There was a beautiful young woman, clearly foreign, standing there across the room. She was golden-haired, and impeccably dressed in a deep blue sheath dress that came down to her knees. She was hugging a corner of the room, next to a person Shirou assumed was her escort or her friend or someone of that order, drink nursed in her hands and chatting idly in accented but rather decent Japanese.

Shirou couldn't take his eyes off her. From the way the light played in her hair to the toned shape of her legs, every piece of her captivated him and made him quite unable to think about anything except continuing to look at her. He hadn't even begun formulating any ideas beyond, _Wow.._.

She was talking, telling someone about her studies, he thought; it was difficult to hear under the din of conversations and the light music drifting around the room. Shirou strained to parse the words. Something about an exchange program?

"So are you gonna spend the whole evening just staring at her or are you actually going to go introduce yourself at some point?" came Rin's sarcastic interruption in his ear.

Shirou startled once again, face flushing hotly and cheeks taking on a lovely shade of red to match Rin's dress. "I wasn't staring!" he denied. "And I mean… I dunno… I wouldn't want to bother her if she's having fun," he added in a mumble, looking off towards the floor.

 _"Ugh,"_ Rin groaned, rolling her eyes to high heaven and grabbing Shirou's wrist before heading off, resolutely, in the direction of the young woman. "You are just so hopeless," she complained.

Shirou sputtered in protest as he tried to yank his hand back, forcibly dragged along by Rin's strong grip. "T-Tohsaka!" he cried. "What are you—?"

Rin reached the group and announced herself with a light _ahem._ Shirou just about died from embarrassment as the girl interrupted her conversation and turned her vibrant green eyes on them, curiously.

Rin beamed. "Hello there! My friend thinks you're really pretty and won't stop gawking at you. But he's too shy to actually make a move. So here, why don't you see what you can do with him?" She gave a final yank to pull Shirou stumbling forward, and then pushed his shoulder with a none-too-gentle thump. Letting go, she waved at him before flouncing off, calling back a teasing, _"~Have fun Emiya-kun!~"_

Shirou glowered furiously at her receding back. He was going to kill her for this. Reluctantly, he lifted his face to meet the young woman's.

"Sorry about my friend," he mumbled. "She thinks she's funny."

-FSN-

Arturia dipped her head with a flush. "Ah, I… didn't quite catch what she'd said, actually."

That was a lie. She had parsed every single word. And was rather flattered actually. But she did not wish to embarrass the young man any further.

"Well… uh…" he was stammering. He scratched behind his ear, apparently unable to make eye contact with her. "How long have you been in Japan?" he finally asked.

Arturia's companion excused himself, wandering off to another conversation, as she angled to face her new acquaintance. "A few months. Since the start of the semester."

"Really?" He seemed surprised. "I mean…" He coughed awkwardly. "I would have thought I'd seen you before now… around town or something."

He said it with a tone that suggested he would certainly remember having seen her. Flutters reverberated through her heart, but she kept a cool demeanor on and continued, "I've been staying with a family on the northeast skirts of town. They're a little out of the way, perhaps we just never crossed paths?"

"Ah… yes. Maybe that's it."

It was really rather adorable how flustered he was. Arturia looked him over. He wasn't especially tall but it was clear that he exercised regularly, and he was built decently. Not unattractive. Perhaps she should ask for his number?

But would that be too forward of her or…?

As she was standing there trying to think it through, nervously tapping the sides of her glass with her nails, an awkward silence stretched out between them.

The boy coughed. "Would… would you… like to dance?" he asked her.

Arturia nodded mutely, unable to look up at him, setting her drink down without paying much attention where she was placing it.

Both of them blushing furiously, they reached out hands for each other and carefully made their way to the dance floor.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These children are disgusting. XD
> 
> Troll!Rin was fun. I should write that more.


End file.
